


Shine On

by Alethia



Series: Power Plays [2]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Blood and Violence, F/M, Flirting, Mirror Universe, Mission Fic, Threats of Violence, they're awful humans, violence as foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28127601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: "Captain Pike," she greeted, her voice a low purr, victory playing over her face. "Come to do me that favor?""No," he scoffed, enjoying her blink, the way the sultry look drained away, replaced with disbelief.
Relationships: Mirror Michael Burnham/Mirror Christopher Pike
Series: Power Plays [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060601
Comments: 22
Kudos: 42





	Shine On

**Author's Note:**

> More Mirrorverse Michael and Pike. Sequel to "Power Plays." This features violence and Mirrorverse-typical slavery, so proceed with caution.

Chris let a half-smirk show as he was escorted through the halls of the _Shenzhou_ , Number One by his side. The reactions of the passing crew members were almost comic—blinks, double-takes, eyes sliding down once they realized just who had come calling. 

He shot an unimpressed look to Number One. She raised an eyebrow. "I hope you realize they're in awe of me, not you," she said. 

"Aren't we all."

Their escort slowed, nodding them to the captain's ready room.

To Michael's ready room. 

It had only been a few days since the party, since Michael propositioned him, to his amusement and her dissatisfaction. Chris hadn't thought he'd see her again so soon. 

Anticipation tingled through him as the ensign turned. "The captain is expecting you. Sir," he finished, respectful, taking his leave.

Chris looked to Number One again. She read him instantly, tilting her head, dark hair falling across her cheek. "Standing post like some two-bit jailer? I should have stayed on the _Enterprise_."

"And miss your admirers?" he shot back, light. 

She snorted as she took up position outside the door. "You promised me a show." 

He smirked at her. "Don't I always deliver?"

"That remains to be seen, now, doesn't it?" 

"Ye of little faith," he taunted as he passed her, walking through doors that parted for him automatically. 

Then Number One was out of his mind, Chris taking in Michael, decked out in her captain's regalia, Corvan II glittering outside the windows behind her. Beautiful. 

Michael turned, a haughty air to her, lush dark-stained lips smirking like she'd won something. 

_Relish_ flashed through him. She had no idea.

"Captain Pike," she greeted, her voice a low purr, victory playing over her face. "Come to do me that favor?"

"No," he scoffed, enjoying her blink, the way the sultry look drained away, replaced with disbelief.

"Oh, really," she bit out, cold. 

"How's Gabriel doing?" he asked, pointed. 

If possible, Michael went colder. "I'm sure I wouldn't know."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," he agreed, half-mocking.

Michael crossed her arms over her chest. "What can I do for you, Captain?"

Chris smiled, slow, enjoying the moment, seeing her clock it, her anger spiking. Finally, he relented. "The Emperor sent me."

He watched it land—a progression of surprise, worry, _rage_ , all quickly masked. "Did she?" Michael said, careful. She wasn't yet at the point of open rebellion, but it seemed to be only a matter of time. 

Still, Michael was smarter than Gabriel. Chris had hope she'd stop the foolishness before she had fully committed. 

Chris _mmmed_. "Given the strategic value of the mining colony, the Emperor thought you could use another set of eyes," he said, mild in a way he knew would drive her out of her mind. 

Michael's eyes narrowed. "I can find a dilithium smuggler myself, thank you."

He ghosted another smile. "Then I'm sure you won't mind me tagging along."

Frustration leaked into Michael's expression. "The Emperor sent me a babysitter?"

"I can't imagine why," Chris said, deadpan, getting an absolutely stunning glare for the effort. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing for the door. 

Michael's glare didn't go anywhere, but she moved for the door. "I'm really going to enjoy it when you drop to your knees for me."

Chris smirked. "Yes. You will."

With that, he followed her out. 

***

The sound of blows meeting a body rang out in the cavernous central hub, the mining operations stopped for this little display. Chris slowly wandered around the space, taking in the worn machinery, the layer of grime, the filthy miners all herded together by Michael's guards, forced to watch her deliver a beating to their leader. Denobulans, Chris thought. Always happy to be of service, content to live on top of each other. They were usually good slaves. He wondered what had led someone astray.

Michael delivered another punch, panting from the effort, reveling in the violence. Idly, Chris wondered if this was her exorcising some of her frustration at his presence. 

The thought warmed him. 

Chris moved to Number One, settling beside her against a far pillar. She was silent and still, affecting boredom, but her blue eyes were sharp, taking in everything. 

She shot him a look. "We should've brought more of our people," she said, low, so no one else could hear. 

Chris shook his head. "We'd look weak."

"If Burnham's guards turn around and off us, we _are_ weak."

"They won't do that," he said, indulgent. 

Number One raised a single dark eyebrow. "And how are you so certain?"

 _Because Michael hasn't gotten what she wants from me yet_ , a voice whispered in his mind, a wash of pleasure accompanying the thought.

Not that he'd volunteer that information.

He shot her a _don't argue_ look. "We're here on behalf of the Emperor. Michael wouldn't challenge that."

" _Yet_ ," she said, precise, because Number One was a very smart woman and could see the writing on the wall. Even so, she subsided, deferring to him. 

_Yet_ , he silently agreed, looking back to Michael, deep into her beating, the Denobulan bloody and panting at her feet. 

Michael stared down at him, superior, mocking. "That might be an answer to _a_ question, but not _my_ question," she said, kicking him for good measure. 

Chris huffed, amused. Number One shot him a startled look. "Oh, is _that_ why," she drawled, blue eyes warming, putting the pieces together. 

He flicked his eyes at her in warning. Her amusement only deepened. 

Great. Now this was gonna be a thing. 

The Denobulan mumbled something pathetic and pleading, Michael bending down to haul him to his feet. Chris' eyes tracked the movement, slipping over her ass, watching the way she moved, graceful and deadly. She really was exquisite. 

Chris could feel Number One's still eyes on him. Her amused noise was instinctive, like she couldn't help herself. 

"Really?" he muttered. 

"You delivered a show after all," she said, delight in her voice. 

"You're right. I should've left you on the _Enterprise_."

Over in the center of the action, Michael punched her target again, sending him back to the dirt. "Tell me where the dilithium went," she demanded. 

"I don't know what you mean!" the miner cried out, weeping now. 

Distaste swept through Chris. He hated it when the waterworks started. It was so undignified. 

"You're the control room manager. By definition you control where the dilithium goes," Michael said obviously. "Or are you incompetent?" she baited. 

"No!" he cried out, surely knowing the punishment for incompetence.

"Then you see the problem," she said, kicking him in the face, sending him sprawling, coughing blood into the floor. 

Chris eyed the gathered Denobulans, all watching, blank-faced. 

Too calm, he dimly realized. 

"Aren't Denobulans the ones that puff up?" he asked Number One, a suspicion forming. 

"Not right now," she said, tone of voice telling him she agreed with his train of thought. 

Chris kicked off the pillar and moved closer, studying the assembled group of male Denobulans, still squarely focused on Michael and her target, no one bothering to look at him. 

They were all dressed in the shabby coveralls typical of miners, toolbelts and vests here and there, everything ragged and filthy. Just like the miners, dirt ground into the creases in their facial ridges, covering their hair, hell, covering every exposed bit of them. Like the mine had infected them. 

Chris moved closer, eyes roving over them. One after another after another—

And then he stopped. 

Michael was still working over the Denobulan at her feet, getting frustrated now. "Maybe you'll have better luck remembering after some time in the agonizer," she spat at him. 

"Before you go that route," Chris mused, drawing everyone's attention, including Michael's, "a suggestion?" He met Michael's gaze, displaying the proper deference. It was her operation, after all. 

And the appearance of humility would make what came next so much sweeter. 

"What is it, Captain Pike," she said, sounding very much like she'd ignore him if she could. 

"Presumably the control room manager works in the control room," he said, nodding to the windowed rectangular metal room where all the machinery controls lived. 

"A brilliant deduction," Michael said, deadpan. 

Chris smiled a little. "That means he wouldn't be in the mines. The rest of them are covered in filth. Just like that one is," he said, nodding to the miner at Michael's feet. Then, finally, he stepped to the one he'd spotted. "But not him."

The Denobulan blinked at him, like he was shocked to be singled out. Before he could even say a word, Chris grabbed his hand, raising it to eye level. He had it curled into a fist and wouldn't unclench, even with the force of Chris' grip on his wrist. 

"Open your hand," Chris ordered, voice cold. 

The Denobulan didn't, his facial features distorting as he seemed to puff up, struggling in Chris' grasp. Those around him also started puffing up, opening a space around them. 

Michael's guards rushed in, holding phasers on the miners, stilling their restless energy. 

Chris stayed impassive, staring into the Denobulan's dark eyes, calm. "Open your hand or I cut it off," he said, mild. 

The Denobulan opened his hand, revealing clean nails. Just as he'd thought.

Chris turned and waved at Michael with said hand, flashing those clean nails at her, smirking a little. 

Her expression turned thunderous. She glared at the Denobulan at her feet. "You _lied_ to me." She barely finished the sentence before she had her phaser out, blowing a hole in the Denobulan's head. 

His body slumped to the dirt with an unceremonious _thump_. 

Hisses went through the crowd, more of the miners puffing up as they sensed danger.

Chris used the Denobulan's hand to yank him forward, sending him stumbling to the dirt, separated from the pack. 

"Take him to the ship," Michael ordered a guard, who immediately swooped in to grab hold of the Denobulan, hauling him away. 

Michael turned to the other miners. "As for you," she paused, seeming to get control of her anger. 

More hisses went through the crowd, those distended faces everywhere now, grotesque. 

"We're done with you," Michael said, dark. Then she raised her phaser and opened fire. 

Like that, all her guards followed suit, the space echoing with the sudden hum of phaser fire in the air, picking off Denobulans as they scattered and went for cover. 

One rushed by, but Chris instantly had a blade out, burying it in the miner's gut. He dragged it across, the wet slide of entrails against his hand _zinging_ through him, body tingling. It'd been a while. 

The Denobulan gurgled and dropped. 

Chris left him there to bleed out, clocking Number One wielding her blades, cutting the throats of two Denobulans simultaneously, smiling softly. 

Across the room, Michael's phaser fire was even, methodical, firing a swath through the crowd, the smell of burning flesh now hanging in the air. Cries rang out as her guards made quick work of the remainder, bodies piled all over the floor, blood seeping into the dirt. 

Not that you could tell much of a difference in this shithole.

Chris wiped his blade on a nearby body and resheathed it, senses still alert. He met Michael's eyes, seeing his own satisfaction mirrored there. A corner of his mouth quirked up. 

Then he shook off the moment, looking around. "I think I'll get some air."

***

Chris heard the door bang open behind him, turning just as Michael approached—

And _shoved_ him into the exterior wall. 

It tore a laugh from him. "You really like shoving me into things."

Michael was not amused, pressing tantalizingly close, a hand gripped around his breast plate and shoving him harder, punishing. "Is this why you're here? To outshine me? Now you can go tell Mother how _you_ found the traitor?"

Chris held her eyes, intense. "She won't hear it from me," he rumbled, voice gone dark. "Or my people."

Michael startled, eyes widening. 

Chris spun them, using his strength to press _her_ into the wall, body fierce but welcoming at the same time. He curled around her, leaning down and running his nose along her neck, taking in the smell of phaser fire and death. "You smell glorious," he breathed into her skin.

Michael gripped his hair and made a soft sound. She arched into him, rubbing her body against his, sharpening his stirring interest. "Come back to the ship with me," she panted, wanton. 

He pulled away to look at her, one hand firm on her hip, pinning her to the wall. Chris took in her dilated eyes, seeing the depth of the lust there, letting the satisfaction of it race through him. She _wanted_ him. And it was killing her. 

Then he pushed back. "Say hello to Gabriel for me," he said, mild, before turning and walking away. 

"Pike!" she called after him, voice ragged. 

"And make sure to take out the Denobulans who are off hibernating," he said, turning to look back at her, still slumped against the wall, like she was overcome with lust. Chris swallowed against that thought, smirking. "We wouldn't want to let any of them get away."

With a final, mocking salute, he left her there. 

Michael's frustrated growl followed him into the building. 

***

Fin. Feedback is adored.


End file.
